Yep! I'm now a year old, and looking back on puppyhood, I realize those early days were overflowing with promise but somewhat lacking in the social graces. I’d thought food bowls were weird toys. I had a non chalant attitude toward bodily functions.
I was certain furniture was just placed to be in my way.
In other words, I lacked polish, sophistication, etiquette.
However, I won’t dwell on my puppyish stupidity, except to say that the maturity process has been a bit painful. Yes, emotionally trying, mentally exhausting and physically challenging.
Fortunately, I was gifted, even then, with amazing powers of observation.
There are those in this world who observe and watch things go by, but really learn nothing.... O.k. I'm thinking Beagles here. But I do more than watch. I watch closely.
I become one with my environment. I "take in".
To start with, I paid particular attention to my brothers. One a Portuguese water - eat - fetch something kinda dog, an overachiever of the highest caliber. Yep. MR. PERFECT. Sheeesh. Chuck, a Beagle, more rug than dog, and exactly why I made the expert comment about the world going by. Last, Dillon, a Disney dog, or Budweiser dog, depending on his moods, all I know is most times a bi polar Dalmation who has been said by other dog pals with astute judgment to have fallen off one to many firetrucks. This group, I assumed, had spent several years learning the ropes, and by using them as role models in matters of routine and positive etiquette, I would pick up proper canine social graces & skills in no time, impress the ol' alpha human chic, and go to my natural place at the top of the pack.
Well my learning curve was a journey of epic proportions!
The rules make no sense. And I polled numerous cats, guinea pigs, horses, cows, ladybugs, and fellow dogs. It is permitted to bark at dogs who come in our yard, or weird men who carry black books & start conversations with "are you saved", or men who want to sell vacuum cleaners. It is not o.k., even a lil' bit, to bark at the t.v. sounds, the birds at 5 a.m., or at your alpa owner's spouse when he wants to kiss her. Growling and dental displays do not bring out the best in the humans at my home, nor do fighting, and killing pillows, beds, playing keep away with visitors’ shoes, and tackling the mailman. It is considered very poor etiquette to pass gas, and I must add this is where Chuck the Beagle excels.
I learned quickly from the overachiever Portuguese pooch in the house that pleasing the alpha mom/chic was the only way to go. HE is a wiz at it. He does all kinds of suck up things then when he gets in trouble it's never really tooo awful.
Amazingly I studied and learned that humans really dig sucky up behavior. Some of the best, and this where that pyscho Dalmatian is a master, worshipful gazing, tail wag greetings,small kisses on hands or side of face. Yuck.
AND WHOOOOA retrieving a toy or, GLORY BE, a slipper, is met with all kinds of praise and salutations. I must admit I did get a bit confused on this one, as my first gift was a cell phone cover that I brought to my alpha chic in the human bathroom and it dropped in the "never ending water bowl". My second was a dead mole that I was sure she would love. Not so much. I was met with weird facial expressions on each occasion and have progressed to many more complicated items like socks, books, the neighbors bar bque tools, small turtles, etc.
Surprisingly, she gives these odd facial expressions and words that have a great deal of consonants with each, which leads me to the conclusion it's not the gift it's the thought that counts.
Knowing how my alpha chic was highly enteratined by my gifts, I tried to retrieve squirrels and small live animals, especially after watching "fat boy", AKA Chuck the Beagle, chase numerous hairy beasts, and lo and behold watch as he runs out of steam. I was sure he just lacked endurance, hutz-pah, drive. I discovered I was way off the mark on that. Seems that ol' Chucky boy learned, and DID NOT share with me, that a small chase is ok as long as you do not catch it, or chase it to the point where you come to a stop in another Humans' territory, they call this a "yard".
Yep I learned the hard way. There I am lying in the tall grass, a true predator, granddaughter of saber tooth wolves, scoping out my kingdom and what do my sharp eyes see ? A Chipmunk.
This was a HUGE chipmunk my friends.
It had fangs, long claws, and stared right at me growling in chipmunk language " s-i-s-s-y D-o-g". I was certain of it.
Well, something deep down took over. The DNA of millions of years came to the fore. A wild and primal desire to rip that chipmunk apart rose up. I slowly rose from my crouch. Step by soft step I got closer, hunched over just enough to blend with my jungle environment. Then IT happened. That same deep genetic need that inspired me seconds before took over and this time I found myself frozen, tail out, leg up. I was pointing the dam lil rodent. YES just looking down my nose at him!
And what do you think happens ? Out of the side of my eyes comes charging the overachiever Portuguese, the pscho Dalmatian, and fat boy farts-alot Chuck! Off goes the Chipmunk - and Off I go. All of us, well except Chuck, who stopped to catch his breathe, chased that lil stinker into the ground. He was SCARED. Most importantly I and my family bonded. I was grown up.
I had proved myself in a real show down.
We all sniffed each other and grumbled a bit afterwards - uh , that's a high five in dog language.
We also got major screamed at. You'd think Alpha chic would be thrilled the dog family is keeping killer animals from her door. Not so. Lotsa yelling, waving arms, all of us, except Chuck - cuz he was succcchhh a goooood dog - sheesh, had to do long down stays.
These are the kinds of experiences that one grows from.
That leads one into adulthood.
That demonstrate maturity. I'm there now.
I'm a one year old.
A doer, a lover, a predator, a pack member, a friend, and a VIZSLA. I Am Agnes. 
.jpg)
